Ashes to Ashes
by Aubreys-Master
Summary: Obi-Wan is haunted by his mistakes. Character death, graphic slash.
1. Prologue

Aubrey's crap: I had a full idea for this, but I'm not sure I'm going to continue it. I kind of like how it is, as it is. If I do continue, though, this is just a prologue, so... I dunno.

Warnings: Character death, slash, some graphic sexual content, language

* * *

Ashes to Ashes

* * *

Panting.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Hands grip so tightly that blood is felt under white nails. Two bodies grind together, genitals crushed against each other, lips bruised as the bodies fuck. It's all they can summon the emotions for. They can't make love anymore. They can't feel that much. The war has burnt it out of them.

Breathe.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

He stares up into the black as his partner cries out, dick hard and thrusting. One hand fists in the sheets, the other on his partner's shoulder. The blood is warm and gooey, and his partner bites his lip. Hard. His legs twine around rocky, perfectly sculpted and meant just for him, this time.

The teeth are on his ear. Is he going to bite his ear off? That would take explaining, when he got home… But, no, his partner merely kisses him and moves on, teeth scraping over his jaw through his beard.

His hips are bruised from his partner's fingers. It's never been this rough before. But, his partner's never been hurting so much before. It's never been such a purely physical release before.

Breathe.

Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. _Kee-hoo._

Glints in the darkness. Pressure from his eyes, perhaps? Maybe they've both gone mad, absorbed the insanity constantly surrounding them. For the first time, he cries out, a mere grunt, barely audible. His partner needs this. This is all about his partner. It's always about his partner.

Mud seeps through the sheet beneath them. But hadn't they been in a bed? The mud slowly warms, forms dirt beneath him, and crumbles into ashes. His back is on fire, and the darkness is alit with the internal flame beneath him. It lights up his partner's beautiful face grotesquely, creates scares that aren't there, and turns his partner's wonderful oceanic eyes to flames themselves. His partner kisses him again, hard, and he feels his teeth chip from the pressure. He tastes blood in his mouth.

They're surrounded in orange light, now. It surrounds them, binds them. One spot remains dark, creating the silhouette of a monster. The monster's eyes light up, and it breathes horrifically again.

_Kee-hoo_.

"Anakin?" His partner doesn't even seem to notice the monster coming toward them. He just keeps thrusting, not even noticing when the monster touched his shoulder.

"Anakin!"

He's falling, and when he lands mud splatters under his boot. Blaster fire zings past his ears and he looks around desperately, trying to find his partner through the sheets of rain and light. The noise is deafening and he can barely hear his own heavy breathing as he searches, desperate to just spot his lightsaber through the storm.

He couldn't find him. Why couldn't he find him? His partner never strayed from his side in battle…he was too intent on keeping him safe to do such a thing. Why would he do so now?

He spun about to look behind him and a blast of red shattered his vision. It took a moment for his eyes to recover and a moment longer for him to realize that the red hadn't been a blaster bolt. The monster from the fire stood, staring at him, blazing red lightsaber in hand. His dark shadow of a head tilted, abyss-eyes staring at Obi-Wan, and he uttered three dark words.

"Wait for it."

Obi-Wan Kenobi sat up abruptly in his too-empty bed. The vision had come to him again and again, haunting him with the day that Anakin had disappeared, the day he'd been declared dead. That had been months ago. Night after night, the monster had haunted him. He was less and less surprised by how much Anakin's nightmares had bothered him.

Climbing from the bed, he rubbed his eyes and sighed.

Obi-Wan concentrated on the feeling of the night-cooled carpet beneath his feet as he walked from the bedroom. Into the living room. Into the hall. Into the kitchen, toward the sink. On the counter, two months later, still sat the last shot glass Anakin had touched. The residue of his drink still clung amber to the sides of the little object, still sitting faithfully where Anakin had slammed it down after his fortifying shot. Obi-Wan hadn't had the heart to wash it, yet.

He thought about making tea, but decided not to. Instead, he turned around and walked, dazedly, back into the den, where he collapsed onto the sofa and held his head for a moment. It was Anakin's favorite seat. Obi-Wan couldn't remember how many times he'd caught Anakin sprawled out there, the holo muted and blasting some music that Obi-Wan couldn't stand. He'd never understood that tradition.

Tonight seemed like a good time to start.

* * *

_Where has that old friend gone? / / Lost in a February Song.  
_Josh Groban (February Song)


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars.

Warnings: Character death, slash, some graphic sexual content, language, some disturbing images.

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_Ashes to Ashes_

_Chapter One_

* * *

She had been crying again.

He could see the tears still glistening on her cheeks. A muscle in his neck twitched with grief, as he moved toward her, sitting down on the edge of it next to her. Reaching out, he brushed his thumb over one of the sticky little trails. She shivered a little in her sleep, but she didn't wake from her slumber, merely shifting a little against her silky pillow.

One thing that Anakin Skywalker regretted from his life was not telling someone about this woman, his wife, his love, his angel. At least then someone – hopefully Obi-Wan – would have gone to tell her in person, after he'd died. She wouldn't have had to see it on the news.

That was a lie. There were plenty of things that Anakin regretted. Keeping Padmé a secret and leaving her alone, like this, just happened to be near the top of the list. He knew she hadn't said anything about their marriage to anyone, even after his death was confirmed. The galaxy had thought they were simply close friends. Her tears didn't surprise anyone.

Leaning down, he kissed her cheek gently. She shivered slightly and sobbed softly in her sleep. Anakin laid down behind her and drew her into a tender embrace, trying desperately to convey to her that he was still there, still protecting her. He buried his face into the crook of her shoulder. Another shudder, another sob. Anakin knew she couldn't feel him, but for a brief moment, he let himself pretend she could.

The afterlife was such a lonely business.

* * *

Obi-Wan was lying on a beach – he couldn't remember which planet at that moment – with the sun beating down on him. It baked the sand beneath him, warming his back almost to the point of discomfort. But Obi-Wan would never dub this moment as uncomfortable… His Anakin was with him.

Anakin's fingers tickled his arm, ghosting over the hair and flesh, causing the muscles to twitch pleasantly. Obi-Wan's mouth mimicked the motion as he fought a smile. The fire from the sky poured through his closed eyelids and he heard Anakin chuckle deeply. Then he didn't have to fight his smile for dignity's sake, because Anakin's mouth was sealed over his, taking care of that little detail for him.

He felt the heat shift as Anakin straddled him, nothing separating their bodies but for the warm, tropical air and the thin material of their swim trunks. Obi-Wan doubted that those barriers would survive very long against them…

"Am I dreaming again?" he breathed when Anakin's lips finally relinquished his, lips, sliding over his beard and to suckle on his neck.

Another chuckle. "No." Anakin's voice sounded amused, like Obi-Wan's question had been absolutely absurd. The feeling of Anakin's tongue against his throat certainly _felt_ real… Obi-Wan wouldn't underestimate his imagination, though. It played too many tricks on him.

"Remembering?" he guessed, no bitterness in his tone, somehow. After all, it wasn't Anakin's fault that he'd died, was it? No, of course not…

There was no reply this time. Obi-Wan felt his smile fade a little. What had he asked that would make Anakin ignore him? he wondered.

Anakin's hands were on his hips, warm and gently controlling. Obi-Wan could feel their erections meet lovingly, longing for each other but still separated by that accursed material.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes with every intention of solving that little problem, but he immediately saw that something was wrong. He stared at Anakin in alarm. His skin was one giant blister, his hands and legs missing altogether. Anakin used the stumps of his limbs for support and looked up at Obi-Wan, his eyes golden and mournful.

"What are you staring at?" the man who couldn't be Anakin rasped, reaching up toward his face with one of those stumps as though to caress it. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Obi-Wan awoke with a soft yelp, glancing around his apartment frantically. The noontide sun poured in through the windows, warming the room and lighting it weakly. Panting, Obi-Wan examined every corner of the common room thoroughly, just to be sure. Anakin had been right. They weren't dreams. They were nightmares. If he ever saw Anakin in the Force, he'd have to apologize to his Padawan for brushing his pain off so rashly…

His entire body shaking, Obi-Wan rose from where he'd drifted off on the sofa and wandered toward the kitchen. The music must have ended hours ago… Bypassing the shot glass on the counter, he turned the water on and drew a teakettle from the cabinet. But merely staring at the cool stream made him feel ill and he turned the faucet off again. This pattern continued for several rounds, before he gave up and left the kettle sitting on the counter as he decided to try calming in the shower instead.

Entering the 'fresher, he avoided looking in the mirror as he walked unsteadily to the shower and flipped the hot water on full blast. Stripping down, he made sure the lights were on and stepped under the scorching flow. The heat reminded him of the burned man in his dream, and Obi-Wan quickly switched to cold. But that frigid alternative merely reminded him of the rain from Jabiim, where Anakin had died. Without time to get out, without time to turn the water off, Obi-Wan fell to the floor of the tub and vomited violently onto the white porcelain.

The water turned itself off, without any help from him. Coughing a little extra vomit out of his mouth, Obi-Wan supposed that he must have done it unconsciously with the Force. Taking a few moments to compose himself, Obi-Wan set about pulling himself to his feet. When he raised his head, though, all he could see was black. The monster from his dreams hovered over him, watching him.

Breath caught in his throat, heart pounding out of his chest, Obi-Wan froze mid-crouch and stared at the thing. The monster said nothing, merely took his black-gloved hand off the controls of the shower, watching him wordlessly. The silence was filled with his awful breathing, for Obi-Wan would know that terrifying _kee-hoo_ anywhere.

"I'm asleep," Obi-Wan gasped, falling back onto his butt, ignoring the pain in his tailbone and watching the monster apprehensively. Still he said nothing. "I'm just asleep…it's just another dream…"

The monster's helmet of a head tilted, almost a curious gesture. The powerful stance he took as he crossed his leather arms was painfully familiar, but Obi-Wan refused to consider it. Anakin had been a good man. Several more agonizing moments were filled with that breathing, before the voice from Obi-Wan's nightmares finally emanated from the creature's mouthless face.

"You can see me?" the monster wondered. Obi-Wan practically choked. It sounded _hopeful_.

"No," Obi-Wan protested, his stomach clenching and threatening to betray him again. "No, I can't, because I'm _asleep_."

The monster crouched down and reached over the edge of the tub. His touch was _freezing_, as he ran a single leather finger over Obi-Wan's cheeks. "No, you're not," he corrected softly, and if he hadn't known better, Obi-Wan would have thought the thing amused.

It was too much for him. Obi-Wan vomited again, feeling it spill from his mouth and dribble down his front. Embarrassed, he closed his eyes tightly. His dreams had never been _this_ vivid before… He'd always been conscious of being asleep, usually tipped off by their jagged, choppy nature. Now, though…

Warm water hit him suddenly, making him jump. It was neither hot nor cold. It set tremors off through his body, snapped his eyes open. He was alone, now…the monster was gone again.

Obi-Wan Kenobi did not cry. He had not cried over Qui-Gon. He had not cried over the friends he'd lost during the war. Even at Anakin's funeral, he had not wept. Now, exhausted and terrified, it spilled from him. He didn't know how to stop.

* * *

Anakin never left Obi-Wan's thoughts, after that incident. He was a ghost, walking at his side as Obi-Wan wandered soullessly through the halls of the Jedi Temple. He was deaf and blind to the other Jedi, to the rest of the world. He only heard Anakin's voice…and the monster's.

It seemed to depend on what mood Obi-Wan was in, that determined which of the two would visit him. Neither of them were with him all the time, but both were on his mind at all hours. That was okay. That he could handle. It was when the monster actually came to visit that he began to have problems.

Obi-Wan knew that the monster was the only one who _actually_ came to visit him. He wasn't foolish, though he sometimes thought he might be losing his mind… Not that he'd ever let anyone else know that.

People snuck up on him without even trying. He'd be lost in his own world, and they'd suddenly be behind him. The inevitable greeting of, "Master Kenobi," was sandpaper against his raw nerves, and generally made him jump in shock before he could even gather his composure. He'd stare at them, unable to make sense of the words they fired off at him. Once, he agreed to teach younglings lightsaber techniques in Master Yoda's stead without even realizing it. He didn't show up. The Council chewed him out, next time one of them found him.

The monster scolded him, once, that he was falling apart and he needed to stop that. Obi-Wan stared at the monster like he was the insane one, while the black creature leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. Hands shaking, he fisted them to minimize the motion, and turned to the monster, fuming.

"You're a fine one to talk!" he spat. The monster straightened, arms falling to his side, as though listening attentively. "It would be much, _much_ easier if you weren't here!" He turned back to the counter, where he'd been preparing a pot of tea, grumbling about how his hallucination was lecturing him over behaving crazily. The only sign that the monster had left was the suddenly absence of his breathing.

Obi-Wan didn't see him again that day.

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Continued in chapter two


End file.
